Toxins
by Hoodoo
Summary: My [only] Rogue fic, and it's not what you think. R for recreational drug use.


Disclaimer: X-men belong to Marvel. I make no money (at this). This doesn't follow the movie, and follows the comic only by utilizing the characters.

Note: if recreational drug use bothers you, don't read this. If you don't know some of the vernacular, GOOD.

****

TOXINS

"These are serious accusations, Jubilation," Professor Xavier said softly. "I assume you would like to try and defend yourself."  


The girl sat at the table, looking at her hands. "I have a _question."_

"Go ahead."  


"Who was it? Who's the rat?" She glanced angrily around. "Was it just the Professor? Or someone else? Was it _you,_ Jean?!"_  
_

The X-men turned Jean. She didn't reply.

"It was me," Logan said loudly. _"I _told, Jubilee. I don't need mental powers ta figure out you were smokin' weed. I got my nose ta tell me that."  


She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "It was you. I should have known. All right, Professor, I _would_ like to defend myself," she remarked coldly, staring at Logan. "I was wearing one of Logan's flannel shirts that day. The only pot he smelled on me was the smoke from the clothing. _His _clothing."  


Jubilee sat back to continue. 

"Why don't you tell us about _your_ stash, Logan? The little box up in your closet? With the dope and the tourniquet and the needles--"  


"You little snoopin' bitch!" he roared, slamming his palms down on the table.

Jubilee stopped but refused to look intimidated.

"How _dare _you go inta my room and start gunnin'--you little bitch! _Little--"_ he started to stand up, his blades sliding out, _"--bitch--"_

"Logan! That's enough!" Scott shouted.

"Fuck you, Summers. I'd be more than happy ta impale you first!"  


"I'd like to see you try--"  


"Right _now,_" Logan shouted, splintering his chair as he shoved it away.

Scott stood, his hand going to his glasses.

"Both of you _stop!" _ Professor Xavier's voice cut through. "I will _not_ have my X-men fighting among themselves over anything! Not even this. Stop right now or take your dispute off of my property and do not come back."  


His tone was icy. Scott lowered his hand, still watching Logan warily, until the shorter man's blades retracted. Scott sat back down.

"Find another chair, Logan," Charles instructed.

Logan turned away, kicked his way through the broken wood, and left the room.

And come back with it, Charles said in his head.

In a few minutes he returned. He had visibly calmed again.

"Now," the Professor began seriously, "we must talk. I will ask questions and you will answer them. You are responsible people, most of whom are adults. Therefore, if you believe you cannot answer my questions, go pack your bags. I will _not_ have illegal activities or substances in _my_ house. Am I understood?"  


Nervous nods went around the table. No one got up.

"Very well. I want to know who is using illegal drugs."  


Only Scott, Jean and Storm met his eyes.

"Very well," he repeated. "I will put you on the spot. Jubilee, I know you have been smoking marijuana. Have you done any other drugs?"  


She shook her head quickly. "I was just trying it. The other kids--"

"Scott, have you?" Charles interrupted her.

Scott shook his head.

"Of course not," Logan sneered. "Not the star pupil."  


_"Enough_ Logan. Have you, Jean? Storm?"  


The two women shook their heads.

"All right. Logan, tell me what your 'stash' contains and what you use regularly."  


Logan lifted his lip and glared at Charles. The Professor returned the gaze calmly.

"A coupla' ounces of weed," he spit. "The tourniquet for horse. Some uppers--speed, mostly. No downers. I don't like 'em."  


"I am happy to hear you have some restrictions," Charles replied and turned away from him. "Remy? Anything to confess?"

"Oiu . . . " Remy replied, dropping his eyes. "I admit to be usin' de marijuana on occasion."  


He stopped.

"Nothing else?"  


"Nothin' else," Remy answered directly. 

He knew he wasn't lying and nodded.

"Who else? Hank, have you experimented with these substances?"  


Guiltily he nodded. "The most popular at this table appears to be marijuana, and I must confess to smoking hashish every now and then," Hank admitted. "I must also confess to dabble in amyl nitrate."  


"So do you take the poppers or not?" asked Logan bluntly. 

"Yes," Hank told him curtly. He looked back at the Professor. "However, it--"  


"Where did you get them?" Charles broke in.

_"Ah _got 'em for 'im."

Professor Xavier turned to Rogue. "You're only eighteen, Rogue. How--"

"Jub'lee's only _fourteen, _Professor. The drugs're there for anyone who cares ta take a gander 'n look for 'em."  


Charles sighed. "You are correct, Rogue. Please tell us your experience."  


In a tone that sounded disturbingly like pride Rogue began,

"On a regular basis ah take coke. It's what ah use most. But ah alsa use uppers _and_ downers, hash, pot, mushrooms, pops--like Beast, sometimes . . . usually a bottla Wild Turkey a week just ta wash it down." Rogue ran a hand over her forehead. She looked at Logan. There were tears in her eyes. "Ah'd take heroin too, only needles have a tendency ta break if ya try pushin' 'em inta me an' it takes too long ta crystallize it ta smoke."  


She blinked her eyes rapidly. No one spoke for a moment. Then Charles folded his hands and said,  


"Fine. Now, I want--"  


_"No!" _exclaimed Rogue, slamming her fists down on the table. It shuddered and groaned in protest. "Ya didn't let anyone else give ya a reason fer takin' this shit, Charles, but yer hearin' mine!

"Ah'm only _eighteen _years old--ah'm not even legal yet! Ah'm not an adult! Ah'm takin' enough shit every week ta kill an elephant an' ya wanna know _why? _'Cause ever since ah was thirteen ah ain't had a hug or held somebody's hand or _nothin' _'cause if ah did ah'd suck everything out an' kill 'em!

"Ah take all them drugs 'cause it makes me ferget noone'll ever touch me!" Her green eyes filled with tears again. This time they fell. " Every day ah see Scott and Jean holdin' on ta one another like there was no tamarra, an' Jub'lee laughin' an' goin' out with boys--_an' ah know nothin' like that'll ever happen ta me!_

"Ah take them stupid, senseless drugs 'cause they make me ferget how isolated ah'll always be," she whispered.

Her hands rested lifelessly on the table. Rogue's head dropped, and quiet sobs shook her body.

Everyone was silent.

"Don't ever let me catch ya takin' nothin', Jub'lee," Rogue gasped out as her weeping slowed. " 'Cause if ah do, there won't be enough of ya left fer Wolv'rine ta rip apart."  


Again the group stayed quiet.

"All right," the Professor said finally. "I will not allow illegal substances in my house. I give you an hour to remove any and _all _of them from my property. Do not place the drugs in you vehicles for keeping, either. After an hour I will personally conduct a room by room _telepathic_ search. Then I will conduct a mental search on your _bodies_ to be positive no drugs are on or _in _you.

"From now on I shall repeat these examinations _without_ prior notice as I feel the need until such time I determine this problem has been eradicated.  


"You may go."  


The group quietly got up from the table. Professor Xavier called to Rogue.

Don't leave, child, he said in her mind. Come sit by me. We will talk and discuss you problems--both the drugs and your loneliness--and work on solutions to them.  


Still crying, Rogue stood up and walked to Charles. She knelt beside his wheelchair and put her head on its arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. Professor Xavier put his hand gently on her head and soothed her. 


End file.
